


Amateur Hour

by Milady



Category: Burn Notice
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-22
Updated: 2011-12-22
Packaged: 2017-10-27 17:48:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/298418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Milady/pseuds/Milady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not all criminals are criminal masterminds, even in Miami. The gang is about to learn that even stupid plots can be deadly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Amateur Hour

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ione](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ione/gifts).



> For Ione, with many wishes for Yuletide happiness. I hope you enjoy!

The drab door opened for a short, scruffy man. He looked at the papers in his hands and then at the sole occupant of the room. "Sam?"

He shook his head dumbly.

"It says here that your name is Sam Axe."

He shrugged and shook his head again. "Wrong room, buddy. The name's Chuck Finley."

"Oh, it's the right room."

'Chuck' looked around, straining his neck to scan every corner. It was the first time since he'd woken up that he'd had any light. "Nope. No Sams at this inn."

"Maybe you know his friends?"

"I doubt it."

"Do you know Michael Westen?"

"Nope."

"Fiona Glenanne?"

"Fiona what-now?"

"What about Jesse Porter?"

"The guy from Full House?"

The man slapped his folder shut. "Never mind." He examined 'Chuck' intently, hoping to discern some sign of weakness, but there was nothing, not a single flinch. "I'll be back later," he threatened. He left the room through the dense, drab door and locked it behind him.

In the next cell, unbeknownst to Sam, a fellow prisoner was waking up. The second captive shook his head, trying to clear out the mental fog. The last thing he remembered dropping a grocery bag into his trunk. Usually, he didn't have a lot of time for runs to the supermarket, but the day had been quiet. His girlfriend had gone out early to meet friends, and his two buddies were out of town - one for work, one for slightly unsettling pleasure. He had some time to kill before meeting someone for breakfast, so he'd gone to the store, bought a handful of items, and was putting them into the trunk, and then...

 

* * *

 

Fiona excused herself from the café table to answer the third call of the afternoon from Michael's mother. Anxiously, she looked back at her 'friends'. Fiona worried that they would leave before their business was concluded if she neglected them for too long. They had stood her up at breakfast already, and it had been a hassle to covince them to meet her that afternoon, just before they would depart Miami for South America. "Madeline, this isn't a good time."

"Michael was supposed to be here this morning, but he never came. I've tried calling him, but he never answers."

Fiona's expression blackened. "You know how Michael is. He gets the call and he goes."

Madeline snapped, "That isn't the problem. There-"

"Madeline, please! I've been working on an important project since early this morning; I haven't spoken to Michael either. Something probably just came up unexpectedly. Anyway, I really have to-"

"Oh, 'something' just 'came up '? That's why I've had strangers parked across from my house all day?" Madeline's voice was full of sarcasm and frustration. She knew more about Michael's work now than she had just a few years earlier; she knew what a stake out looked like. But, their roles had not changed. Michael was the operative and Madeline was the mother. She was worried - not because of what the stake-out meant for her, but what it must mean for her son's current situation. "I tried Sam, I tried Jesse, and I tried you twice before. I can't call the police." Madeline's tone clearly indicated who was to blame for that handicap. "So, please, tell me what else I should do."

Fiona sighed. "Stay out of sight. I'm on my way." Breathlessly, she sashayed over to the table. "Sorry, boys, but I've got to break up this little party."

"We've got business to finish!"

"Not anymore," she sighed. "A more lucrative offer just came in. Feel free to call me if you come up with a better deal, though."

 

* * *

 

Back at the loft, wrist-deep in handcuffs and guns, Fiona exhaled sharply when she saw Jesse come in. The only sight more welcome would have been Michael. "We don't have a lot of time." She dangled a pair of handcuffs. "We need to arrest Madeline and figure out what the hell has happened to Michael."

"Wait, what? I only got back in town half an hour ago. What's going on?"

"I didn't want to explain it on the phone. You never know who's listening."

"Okay, but we're not on the phone now, so maybe you could clue me in?"

Fiona nodded absently, her eyes trained on the automatic rifle she was prepping. "Michael is missing. We thought maybe the CIA had called him in, but there's no message, no trail, and there's nothing missing besides his wallet and his keys."

"Could have been last minute," Jesse suggested.

"That's what I thought, but Madeline can't get in touch with him either, and then she called me to say she's had people watching her house all day."

Jesse rocked back on his heels. "So, we're arresting her as a way to get her out of the house without a gun fight?"

"Yes."

"Yeah, okay, but one small problem: we're not cops. I know what you're going to say, but hijacking a police cruiser is going to attract all the wrong sort of attention."

"I can't believe you think so little of me." Fiona smirked. "We're not going as cops - we're going as detectives.” She had put on her costume before Jesse arrived and packed a bag with a few incidentals that might come in handy. "The right look, a few small props, and an unassuming vehicle...." She pushed a paper shopping bag toward Jesse; it was packed with a dark, non-descript suit, standard issue sunglasses, and the necessary cop props.

"They could be listening in on the police scanner," Jesse warned as he started changing out of his outer clothes.

"We don't have all day to set this up!"

"That's not what I'm saying, Fi." He held up his hands. "I'm just saying that probably the last word I'd ever use to describe what you do is 'unassuming', including both selecting and stealing cars. If there's a BOLO for the car you pick and they're on the scanner, we might as well be wearing a 'please shoot us, we're not really cops' sign."

"I can't control that. If I had my way, we'd shoot _them_ and be done with it."

"Seriously, Fi, I love the bloodlust, but Detective Fi should have a handle on her temper."

"Michael's not here, so you'll have to handle my temper."

"I already have a job."

"Now you have two." She handed Jesse one of her rifles and grabbed a heavy bag. "We can talk the rest of this out later, but we've got to get her out of that house."

"What about Sam?" Jesse followed Fiona out of the loft and into her car. "If Mike's in trouble, he'll want in on this."

"Sam is curiously unreachable at the moment. He went off to Jupiter with his latest lady friend and isn't answering calls." Fiona's urgency was punctuated by her squealing tires as she turned the car onto the road.

"It's not like Sam to not pick up when he knows something is up."

"How would he know something is up without picking up his phone?"

"What, you're going to say you _didn't_ call him fifteen times in a row?"

"I had to do something while I waited for you."

Jesse flinched as Fiona made one of her trademark close calls with an oncoming SUV. "And it just rang out?"

"Yes!"

"Well, don't you think by time twelve or so he'd have heard it and shut it off if he wasn't into answering it? Something could be up with him, and if something's up with him _and_ Mike, it's got to be the same thing."

Fiona didn't like Jesse's thinking, but she agreed with it. "First, we've got to get Madeline out. Maybe we can pick up something from the people watching her while we do it."

"Fine, but we've got to get a car first, Fi, and you're speeding by every parking lot on the route."

"Start looking. We need as unsexy a place as possible."

"There's a supermarket around the corner." Fiona was taking the corner just as Jesse was finished talking about it. Another hard turn put them into the parking lot of the grocery store and another turn landed them in a spot in a far corner of the lot. They separated to canvass the lot more quickly, checking the more remote areas for appropriate cars. Both were holding out for a car that could be broken into without serious damage - unlike an ubiquitous car alarm, a violent break-in was likely to draw spectators. About halfway through a row, Jesse saw a good candidate, but Fiona yelled first. With a few glances to keep his eye on the car, he ran to Fiona's side. "Find something?"

"You could say that." She pointed to a car several slots down from their position. Jesse's shoulders dropped when he saw it - it was the Charger. A bag of yogurt had been dropped by the back right tire. "We need to get in touch with Sam right now."

"We need to get Maddie first. Come on." Jesse had to pull Fiona along for the first few steps, until her fight kicked in. She beat Jesse to the car he pointed out - a black sedan - and was inside in a flash. It seemed good luck was on their side - someone had left her purse in the car, presumably a passenger, and her key ring had a key for the car. Difficult as it was, Fiona drove conservatively out of the lot while Jesse perfected the look of their borrowed vehicle. She sped up when nobody was looking, but she was the model of caution when she turned onto Madeline's street.

The caution paid off. They made it past the surveillance perimeter effortlessly. The hired spies did everything possible, no matter how obvious, to not draw attention to themselves. These bumbles bolstered Fiona and Jesse's belief that they were dealing with amateurs. Madeline herself was the biggest obstacle in the operation. She wouldn't answer the door at first, and when she finally did, she was armed and on edge. It was a trick to placate her and seem like annoyed cops arresting a nuisance, but tricks were a specialty of the Glenanne-Porter team. Ultimately, Madeline was extracted cleanly and the inept tail that followed them out of the neighborhood was soon shaken by Fiona's unique driving skills. They quickly and quietly dropped off the borrowed sedan in a deserted corner of the supermarket parking lot, retrieved Fiona's car, and went on their way to stop number one: the home of Sam's latest lady friend, Valerie Gardiner.

 

* * *

 

Despite the darkness, Sam had made a survey of his surroundings. The walls were not very solid, but when he pushed them, there was a strange, rattling noise. The walls were apparently false, but as he tested them, he realized they would only go so far without resistance, and it wasn't nearly far enough. He had tried to be quiet as he tested his boundaries; there was no telling who or what he might attract with too much noise.

Discouraged, he slumped down into the corner of his cell and leaned his head back. This was not where he thought he would be. Instead of a lush love nest, he was in some sort of cage. So far, his wining and dining experience was zilch, except for a glass of tepid water. He was in the dark for all the wrong reasons and he was still wearing his pants. Then again, he thought, he should probably be grateful that whoever had clubbed him on the head hadn't taken his pants before throwing him in a pitch black cell. "This is definitely how I wanted to spend my weekend," he announced to his solitude.

Solitude - so he thought. That same rustling filled his ears, but he hadn't moved. Someone had heard him and was at the wall. "Hey," he whispered. "Who's there?"

"Sam?"

It was the one voice he wanted to hear. "Mike! Mike, buddy, you've got to get me out of here."

"I'd love to, Sam, but I'm stuck in the next cell. I got beat over the head in the parking lot at the grocery store." He snugged up to the wall. "Do you have any idea what is going on here?"

"Your guess is as good as mine. One minute, I'm in Valerie's driveway, taking out my suitcase, ready for the long weekend. Next thing I know, I get clonked on the head, and now I'm starring in the next Saw sequel."

"Yeah, that sounds familiar. I was loading up the trunk with yogurt."

"Was Fi with you? Some guy was asking me about you, Fi, and Jesse earlier."

"No. She was meeting with some business contacts of hers."

"Anyone we know?"

"They're the type whose names you're better off not knowing."

Sam chuckled, despite his current situation. "The only people possibly more scary than Fi are her associates. They ought to keep whoever these people are at bay."

"Yeah, _or_ she'll be attacked like we were when she's vulnerable, and then we'll be having a three-way conversation."

The silence bespoke a shift in Sam's expression to an earnest frown. "What about Jesse?"

"Jesse was out of town for work, but he thought he might get back today."

"Any chance your mother will miss you?"

"I was supposed to be at her house for breakfast."

"Mike, this isn't good. You aren't exactly Mr. Routine, especially now that you've got one foot in the door, and I'm penciled in with Valerie until Tuesday. We could be missing our toenails before anyone realizes we're _gone_ gone."

"I don't know if we can wait that long, Sam. This is an amateur set-up. Nothing about this is right. If anything goes wrong, if they get anxious, they'll cut and run." He didn't need to say anything more. As amateurs, the captors had a standard 'Plan B', though it was unlikely they thought of it on their own. The natural reaction to a trapping situation - such as being caught holding two people hostage in a homemade dungeon - was to cut and run. In this case, the 'cut' would the untimely conclusion of Michael and Sam's lives, done to ease the 'run' portion of the plan. Professionals had a true backup plan - and their first plan was generally not lifted from a gritty, low-budget crime and horror flick. There were amateurs - Michael and Sam were both sure of it - and this situation would go from precarious to deadly with the first wrinkle in the Hollywood plot.

"In that case, let's hope someone gets anxious for our company first."

 

* * *

 

Valerie Gardiner, the trio soon discovered, lived in a handsome, one-story stucco house. It was surrounded by tall trees that provided plenty of shade and privacy within the house and the immediate perimeter. When Fiona and Jesse saw Sam's car parked in the driveway, they began to assess the trees and flora for their tactical value. It was possible that Sam was a prisoner inside the belying, charming house. Madeline was ordered to remain in Fiona's car, in position to drive away if threatened. This babying made Madeline incredibly unhappy - after learning of the abandoned Charger, she had been rubbed raw by her maternal instincts. She wanted to do something to strike back against whatever or whoever had taken away her son. Instead, she yet again felt relegated to the sidelines.

"Are you sure about this?" she asked just before Fiona and Jesse left. "He could have just parked his car here or said they were leaving town so the three of you would leave them alone."

"That's not Sam," Fiona replied. "As much as he groans about his girlfriends, he'd answer the phone." After Madeline waved her hand in capitulation, Fiona and Jesse stalked off into the tree-littered yard.

She obeyed her orders at first, alert to any threatening changes in circumstances. There were none, which made for an incredibly boring and irritating stakeout. About ten minutes into the task, however, she ran into some action she could have done entirely without. A woman that Madeline recognized from a picture was walking up the drive toward the house - it was Valerie. Madeline slouched down low in her seat and pulled out her cell phone to warn Fiona and Jesse. There was no answer, leaving her to simply hope that the call itself would be a warning. (It also made her resolve to ask for a better communication system the next time she was manning the getaway car.)

All seemed well until Valerie approached the porch of her house. From her distant position, Madeline couldn't make out Valerie's facial expression, but the body language was obvious. Whatever was going on in Valerie's house had spooked her enough to prevent her from entering. Quickly, the woman turned on her heel and began a brisk walk back down the property, toward Fiona's car. Madeline was forced to improvise - if Valerie saw her, she would have to defend herself. The only remotely dangerous object left behind by Jesse and Fiona (that she could operate, anyway) was an expandable umbrella. While Madeline thought she could use the object somehow, it was a bad choice in a small space. If she wanted to brandish her weapon effectively, she needed more room.

She was ready when Valerie got close. Madeline crouched behind the far side of the car, which was parked slightly in from the street and under the protection of the fabulous trees. Patiently, she waited for the approach and watched for the proper angle. Just as Valerie began to step across the surprise threshold, Madeline deployed her weapon. The mechanical umbrella shot forward from the handle and bloomed, striking Valerie with a one-two punch that tripped her and sent her tumbling. Before Valerie knew what hit her, Madeline was sitting on top of the prone figure, pinning her to the ground.

"Who are you?" Valerie snapped. "You'll pay for this!"

"Tell me where my son is or you'll be paying me back for something a lot more serious!"

Valerie sneered, "Aw, you're Mrs. Westen, aren't you?"

"What's it to you?"

"Everything! Your son and his friends sent my son, my only baby, off to prison. He'll be an old man before he gets out!"

"Kidnapping my son and his friends isn't going to give you your son back."

"But they'll suffer like he does, and you'll suffer like I do! It's your son and his friends who belong in jail, not my son. The cops couldn't catch them, so I did."

"And now I've caught you, so shut up!"

"It doesn't matter. Michael and my _dearest_ , _darling_ Sam are both going away forever. You'll never see your son again. What happens to me doesn't matter."

A female voice interrupted them. "We're not missing the fun, are we?"

Both ladies looked up. Madeline was pleased to see Fiona and Jesse, who were both pleased and amused in their own way by the scene before them. "She says you got her son arrested."

"That narrows it down," Fiona cracked.

"His name's Freddie Newell, and he's a good boy! He's in jail because of you thugs. You won't get away with it, I won't allow it."

Jesse smiled charmingly while Fiona aimed her rifle at Valerie. "I don't think you're in a position to argue. Get up - nice and slow."

"I can't get up with this heifer on my back!"

Madeline growled, but it was Fiona, of all people, who urged her toward caution. She continued to grumble, but she got off of Valerie and 'helped' the woman to her feet.

Fiona gestured with her gun. "Start walking."

Valerie obeyed. Both Jesse and Fi had guns drawn and Madeline, umbrella and all, was still foaming at the mouth. "This isn't going to get your friends back. Eventually, my people will do what I paid them to. You'll never find them."

"Let me guess," Fiona replied. "You've got them stashed away somewhere in Jupiter."

"And what are you going to do, knock on every door in Jupiter?"

"Not after you tell us where they are."

Valerie cackled. "I'm not telling you anything."

Fiona couldn't help herself - she kept poking. "Of course. Well, other than that you've kidnapped Michael and Sam, are holding them prisoner in Jupiter, and you've hired people to capture and possibly kill them."

Jesse chimed in, "You're going to be one tough nut, Valerie."

That did it. Valerie whipped around, smacking Jesse with her heavy purse. Fiona readied her gun but knew she shouldn't shoot their only lead until it was absolutely necessary. Madeline had no such qualms, and when Valerie charged at her under a streak of salty language, she whacked the crazed woman with her now-signature weapon. Valerie stumbled back, startled from the impact. Her fingers flew to her head; she was bleeding where a metal part of the umbrella had caught and torn the skin. In her sudden confusion, Valerie was sure she was bleeding out of her brain and fainted on the spot.

Jesse took a long look at the unconscious woman. "Okay, I guess that works, too."

"Let's get her into the house before she wakes up. I've got an idea."

 

* * *

 

Madeline glanced sideways. Off to the right, Valerie was slumped in an armchair littered with knitted throws. She was still unconscious. Fiona had assured Madeline the woman would be fine and that she would come around shortly. In the meantime, Valerie had been tied and cuffed to the chair to prevent any more incidents when she woke up. This opportunity for quiet observation had bolstered their workable idea. While they two ladies weren't the same age and didn't look exactly alike, they shared a certain resemblance and a similar build. Fiona was sure, with the help of Valerie's incredibly well-stocked makeup bag, she could make Madeline pass for Valerie to her hired goons.

"Stop squirming, Madeline," Fiona demanded. "It takes a lot of work to be that made up. Your eyeliner will smudge."

Behind the ladies, and charged with watching the door, Jesse was impatient. "Is this really necessary? No offense, but we could grab a pair of sunglasses-"

Madeline snapped. "Do you think I'm enjoying this?" Instinctively, she reached for the cigarette she didn't and couldn't have. She sighed, greatly annoyed. "Michael and Sam are God-knows-where and I'm getting a hooker makeover!"

Fiona grabbed Madeline by the chin and went for the lower lash line with the pencil. "Sam definitely has some explaining to do." She bit her lip as she finished the second eye. "Jesse, go see if Valerie has any more hats in her closet. There's a blood stain on the one she was wearing."

An uneasy silence descended for several seconds. Madeline fidgeted and Fiona fussed. "Are you sure this is going to work?"

"Of course it's going to work." Fiona continued without missing a beat.

"What if they know this woman? We're not twins."

"You will be when I'm done. Anyway, this entire scheme is stupid. She dated Sam so she could lure him on a vacation where she'd pay him back for putting her son in prison? Any self-respecting bad girl would have just had him killed. Foreplay can get very messy."

"Agreed," Jesse announced as he returned with a large, black hat. "Valerie's got to have one nasty cut."

Madeline snatched the hat, planted it on her head, and promptly began a flurry of impatient adjustments. "Oh, well, leave her a Band-Aid!"

Perfectly calm, he stepped up to Madeline's side. Jesse touched her shoulder and held out a pricey pair of sunglasses. "Trust me. They make all the difference." She accepted them gratefully and stepped up to a nearby mirror. With the heavy make-up, the hat, and the sunglasses....

Fiona interrupted her thoughts with a white jacket. "The earrings, Madeline. Valerie is a less... _interesting_ dresser."

She complied and without further complaint. She knew was only delaying their effort to rescue Michael and Sam when she ran her mouth. It was not easily done, but it was done, and Madeline emerged from Valerie's house looking passably like her. She leaned forward from the backseat as Fiona and Jesse got into the car and asked what would happen if Valerie woke up soon.

"I took her cell."

"I cut the phone line."

Fiona's head snapped to the side. "When did you do that?"

He cracked a grin. "While you were giving out a makeover. It was right near the bedroom window."

"Good!" Fiona gave her passengers a well-known jolt when she pulled out onto the road. "So, even if she can drag around that chair we cuffed her to, she won't be calling anyone for a while."

Jesse changed the subject. "Anyway... Fi, where are we going?"

"She looked up directions to an address in Jupiter twice on her phone." She tossed the cell to Jesse. "I doubt it's a coincidence."

"When did you find that out?"

"When I was giving out the makeover. I'm an accomplished multi-tasker."

Even with Fiona at the wheel, the drive to Jupiter was well over an hour. The time was put to good use, preparing Madeline for her starring role and devising the plan of attack. Contingencies were a necessity - if the makeshift prison was being guarded by hired goons, passing Fiona and Jesse as separately hired goons could be difficult. Madeline was adamant that she could make a solo first attempt. Both Jesse and Fiona thought this option was ill-advised and entirely fueled by (well-meant) maternal instinct. An operative working under strong emotions could create a dangerous situation.

"I might not know everything the four of you do, but I think I've picked up a few things. If I go in and they catch me, the two of you can still hatch a plan between you," Madeline argued. "If we all go in together and we're caught, we're all finished."

Jesse was coming around, but Fiona was not so easily placated. "How are we going to know if you're in trouble if we're staying behind?"

Madeline caught her eye in the rear view mirror. "You're telling me you don't have some gadget that will help you out?"

"There's only so much I can carry with me, Madeline! Now, if Michael was here-"

"Well, he's not, so improvise!" Flustered, she reached for the cigarettes that she didn't have. Valerie had appeared to be a non-smoker, and Madeline's smoking habit was obvious to anyone. For the sake of discretion, she had gotten rid of them - a decision she regretted with a big sigh. "I'm sorry, both of you. I know I'm not the most desired fifth wheel on your radar, especially not now, but let's just act like I know what I'm doing. Do what you'd do to look out for Michael or Sam. I don't need special treatment. We don't have time for it."

"We'll set up watch when you go in, but if the tiniest thing goes wrong-"

"You'll blow up the bad guys and begin an insane rescue mission - yes, I know."

Fiona smiled, satisfied with herself. "Good - as long as we're all _perfectly clear_ on that point."

A few moments later, Jesse indicated they were close to arriving. The house was set back from the road, accessible by a long, narrow driveway that was blocked by a gate. He quelled Fiona's instinct to run down the gate with the car and instead hopped out, convincing as a hired guard in the same outfit that passed him off as a detective, and called for the gate to be opened via the security system.

"Who is this?" a brash voice asked.

"Ms. Gardiner is in the car. Open the gate."

"We weren't told to expect any visitors."

"You want to get paid or not?" He smiled as the gate began to open and hopped back into the car. "They weren't expecting Valerie, but they don't seem like they're pros. If you bully them around, Maddie, they should do what you want."

Stiffly, she said, "I think I can manage that."

As the house came into sight, Fiona announced, "Last call for firearms." Jesse nodded to the glove box and the backseat, where they had hidden various weapons.

"Are you sure I can't bring something bigger with me?" Madeline was hiding a handgun in her purse. "I'm sure I could squeeze something else in here."

Jesse turned around in his seat. "You don't have room for anything bigger. Anyway, the handgun works. Crazy ladies don't usually accessorize with an assault rifle or a shotgun."

"Is that so?" Fiona asked.

"Okay, crazy _old_ ladies."

"Oh, really?" Even through the sunglasses, Madeline shot off a stern look that made Jesse turn around and sit down. "Park the car, Fiona. Let's get this over with." If Jesse hadn't been sure to child-lock her in, Madeline would have let herself out of the car. As it was, she had to wait for him, in the hat and sunglasses to which he was entrusting his identity, to step out and open the door for her. She swallowed her anger for the people approaching her as she stood on the gravel drive, the center of attention.

"Ms. Gardiner, we weren't expecting you."

"I'm not really interested in your expectations."

One of the guards, a squat man carrying a pistol no better than the one in Madeline's handbag, stepped a bit closer. "Is something wrong? You sound-"

"Parched," she interrupted. "The air in the car was very dry. Go get me a glass of water." She waved her hand at the squat man. "Well, go on!"

"Why did you come?" another guard asked.

"Because I want to see the little monsters who hurt my boy before I hurt them."

"Ma'am, I should tell you... we haven't caught all of them yet."

"Why not?"

"We weren't able to find them all. In fact..."

"What now?"

"Westen's mother was arrested by the police a few hours ago."

She waved her hand. "Fine, let them take care of her! Who do you have?"

"Westen and Axe."

"Good. I want to see them. Alone."

"Uh..."

"Hey!" She stuck her finger into the man's chest. "I'm paying you, and I want to see the bastards. Take me to them - now."

"Anything you say...." The guard shrugged and led Madeline into the house. It looked inside much as it did outside. It was an unsuspecting, run-of-the-mill Jupiter mansion - until they got to the back. They went out across a small driveway, and entered the side-door of a detached garage. The garage was made up for storage, though more industrialized and creepy than the typical messy catch-all. A few bare bulbs hanging from the ceiling provided all of the light - the windows had been boarded over and the solid garage door shut up and disabled (if the dangling cords were any indication.) Most of the room was divided up by chain-link cells, the kind not uncommon for storing valuables in a warehouse. These were lined by makeshift walls, complete with an inner door. It struck her like something in a bad play, like the rest of the operation - except for the dozen or so armed men playing mercenary on the grounds. Green as she was, Madeline was sure it took a lot less to shoot a couple of unarmed prisoners than to build them a decent pair of cells.

"This is... pathetic."

The guard scowled. "It's worked so far."

"Well, let's make sure it keeps working. Otherwise, I’ll have to rethink this situation."

"Speaking of-"

Madeline turned and scowled herself. "Speaking of what?"

"We haven't been paid our full share."

"You haven't delivered your full share. You get Glenanne and Porter and we'll talk about your full share. Now, give me the keys and get out - I want to have a private conversation."

"They could attack u- uh, you!"

"You left something lying around that could be used as a weapon?"

"No!"

"What did I hire you for, exactly?"

The guard had nothing to say to this. He didn't want to piss off the rich hag by not giving her what she wanted, but he also didn't want her dead before she paid up. He didn't think there was anything around that could be a weapon - he wasn't sure, but pretty sure was good enough. "I'll guard the door outside."

"Fine, whatever. Go!" She waved him off and watched him go. Her hands shook as she tried several keys in the nearest door. After what seemed like an eternity, she found the right key for the cage's door and pushed through the unlocked door to the inner cell.

"Valerie! What the hell is going on? Whatever it is, I promise-"

"You'd better promise me right now not to confuse me with the women you date again, Sam."

His jaw dropped quite literally. "Maddie?" he whispered. "What the hell-"

"Let's save the small talk. Where's Michael?"

"Next cell, to the left."

Madeline was able to open the second door much quicker, now that she knew what key she needed. Michael was unconscious. At first, she was afraid Michael was hurt (or worse), but he woke suddenly, shaking off the sleepiness, and squinted at his visitor. His jaw went the way of Sam's. "You're kidding. What the hell-"

"Oh, I just dropped by for a visit. What do you think is going on? That she-wolf that Sam was dating had you captured, and she wanted to do Fiona and Jesse and me in, too. Her son went to jail. She thinks it's your fault, and she's probably right."

"And you got in here.... how?"

"We made her temporarily unavailable."

"So you could pass yourself off as Valerie?

"Yes!"

"Excellent. Let's get Sam and get out of here."

"It's not going to be that easy, Michael - there's only one way out of this garage, and it's guarded. There are probably a dozen guys with guys roaming around."

"Then we need to make an alternate exit."

"That's not going to be easy."

"There's always something." Michael stood up for the first time in hours and stumbled out into the poorly lit garage. To his disappointment, his mother was correct. There was nothing really useful in plain sight for shock, awe, or diversion tactics. He went over to Sam's cell. "Are you hanging in there, Sam?"

"My head's still ringing, but I think I can put up a fight." He caught sight of Madeline in the relatively better light and paused. "Damn, Maddie, you really play Valerie pretty good."

"Which I'm willing to overlook for now, Sam, if you'll shut up about it" she shot back.

"Are Fi and Jesse with you?" Michael asked.

"They escorted me here as some hired guards. I came in alone first, but they're watching for trouble."

"You came in alone?"

"Except for this." She shoved her purse into Michael's hands. "Fiona thought you could do something with it."

Michael's eyes lit up. Alongside the handgun were a small amount of explosives and the bare necessities to make just enough of a ruckus to cause confusion. "Great. Sam, we're going to blow open the side door. Mom, start heading back to the car. Take your time until you hear the explosion, so you don't have to wait for it in the driveway."

Sam chimed in. "Mike, I think we should try to get the guard in here. I'd rather get the gear off him than blow it up with him."

"Good thinking. Mom, do you think-"

"Damsel in distress, got it."

The rest of the details were ironed out in the following two minutes. Although rushed, everyone on the team, including Madeline, felt ready to do their part. However, just as they were about to commence, they were stunned by the sound of a large explosion in the distance. They looked at each other with only one thought in their minds: Fiona.

They braced themselves for the guards to rush in to protect Valerie, guard their hostages, or both. It did not happen immediately, prompting them to take cover when they heard volleys of gunfire. Madeline hid in one cell while Sam and Michael took the other. They waited for a couple of minutes before Michael announced it was time to move out. "They're out to save their own asses," Sam concurred. "They won't be looking for us."

"Come on!" Michael, armed with his mother's handgun, lead the trio out of the garage by kicking open the side door. The mercenary who had been standing guard had long since left, along with his weapon. Armed with nothing more than the handgun and Madeline's disguise, they hurried away from the garage toward the side of the large house. They flattened themselves against the side and pushed forward carefully, scanning their surroundings with each step.

It was Madeline who noticed the mercenary before the mercenary noticed them. "Michael, to the left!"

The two men pointed their guns at each other. Theoretically, with two dependents, Michael was at the disadvantage, but the virtue of quickness put him on top. He fired off two quick shots, disabling the mercenary and sending him to the ground in a wave of agony. Sam was impressed, and said so. "Nice work, Maddie!"

"We need to get out of here." Michael interjected. "These guys only want to get their ass out of here alive."

"It's a shoot first, worry about the needle later policy," Sam explained.

"Great," Madeline groaned.

"I think if we cut northwest, into the trees-" Michael was stopped short by the sudden, unbridled approach of a large, black SUV. It hurtled toward the three as fast as it could cut across the uneven grass. Sam and Michael reacted on their instinct and made a run for it. Madeline, guided by her own instincts, froze for a moment. Michael shouted to his mother first, urging her to move away. When that didn't work, he began to run towards her. To him, everything felt like it was in lethal slow motion - the SUV was bearing down on his mother, she wasn't moving, and Michael was slogging through incredible resistance to get to her in time. With his last breath, he felt, he'd somehow shield her from impact with the car. Somehow, he was sure, he could save her if he could just get there.

Time suddenly snapped back to normal as the car reached Madeline. Michael was still running, Sam was yelling, and Madeline was pushing herself hard into the flight she had just begun, but all of it was in vain.

They were astounded - the SUV had slowed and then stopped on arrival, firmly under Jesse's control. "Get it," he yelled from the driver's seat. Madeline, Michael, and Sam obeyed readily and were barely into the car before Jesse performed a frantic donut and sped away from the pickup spot. "Fi's waiting down the road with the other car," he explained. "Almost all of the mercenaries hauled ass out of here at the first sign of trouble. Everyone okay?"

Sam and Michael nodded, but the three men knew the question was really for Madeline. She was slumped in her seat, finally free of her sunglasses, and breathing heavily. "Well," she replied, tentative at first, "I was falsely arrested, I assaulted a woman with an umbrella and assumed her identity, and I infiltrated an armed compound to save Michael and Sam from Sam's insane girlfriend." She exhaled sharply, her lips curled. The expression was part wry disbelief, part satisfaction, and part relief. "I've been worse."

Later, while crammed into Fiona's car with the four others on the ride back to Miami, Madeline asked for a pit stop near a large convenience store. She had the weirdest hankering for a cup of yogurt.

 

 


End file.
